


Till Death

by ElDiablito_SF



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Intercrural Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, Power Play, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 00:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9854762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/pseuds/ElDiablito_SF
Summary: (Spoilers for 4x04) Flint and Silver are reunited.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [natlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natlet/gifts).



> I have no idea what's going to happen, it is obviously not this, but I don't give a fuck! Also, there is not a SINGLE mention of anyone named Thomas in this fic. Not ONE!
> 
> So Jess wanted "some fluffy reunion hugging after flint is released" and obviously what I heard was "some kinky power play and angry Silver". XD

Silver was going to fucking kill Flint. He was going to rip his smug, infuriating face off with his own bare hands. And then he would beat the rest of him to death with his crutch. They just needed to be some place _quiet_ where no one could see Silver doing any of the things he had been planning on doing to Flint since they had collected him from the fort. He wondered if Dooley or Joji would object very much to having to bury Flint’s corpse. After all, having only one leg made digging a grave rather inconvenient.

Perhaps he could just toss Flint’s body off the cliff into the waters below.

Or chop him into pieces and feed him to the vultures. He’d heard “sky burial” had been a thing somewhere. Once. Who could keep track of these things.

“You’re particularly reticent right now, for yourself,” Flint had the audacity to speak.

Well, fine then. They had a roof over their head. It wasn’t exactly as private as Silver had hoped, but he would just have to make the most of it.

“Fucking _leave_ ,” he’d hissed at everyone else present and bolted the door behind them. Silver took a breath, and another breath, palms steadying him against the closed double doors. 

“Something on your mind?” Flint asked, leaning against what used to be Eleanor Guthrie’s desk. Damn Eleanor Guthrie! He supposed he couldn’t really blame her for trying. The connection she had honed over the years with Flint was the logical weakness in their arsenal to exploit. Only Silver could not believe he had allowed it to blindside him so utterly. “Something you wish to say to me?”

Silver was going to fucking kill him.

“You… _fuck_!”

Admittedly, this was not Silver at his height of eloquence.

He took a step towards Flint, his crutch clutched in his left hand like the hilt of a sword.

“You utter fuck!” he repeated, assuming what he hoped was a threatening position in front of his so-called Captain. “You have no idea what I had to go through to get you out of there! No idea how very tits up everything went while you played guards and prisoners with Eleanor Guthrie!” Flint’s eyebrow twitched. “Did you enjoy that, you fucking deviant? Being detained? I bet you begged them to put you in shackles, didn’t you?”

“John…”

“ _No!_ ” Silver was not half-way done. “No, you don’t get to talk your way out of this one!” Silver was certain that he had it all planned out, the physical, and if all else failed - metaphorical - murder of Flint. Instead, he felt his body sag beneath the weight of sheer relief and he swayed where he stood, his crutch slipping momentarily from his grasp.

Flint’s arms were around him immediately (that bastard!) and Silver leaned into the reassuringly hard planes of his body.

“Jesus Christ… I thought I would go mad,” Silver confessed, leaning into Flint’s embrace, allowing the crutch fall to the floor, letting his own arms circle around the other man’s solid form, his face pressed into the warm skin of Flint’s neck. “What were you thinking? Why? Why did you do it?” he whispered into the dip between Flint’s collarbones.

“You know why,” Flint’s words ruffled Silver’s hair. He had been surprisingly soft-spoken, almost etiolated in some way. As if little by little, something had been sapping him of all the thunder and lightning that had been Captain Flint. What was left, then? 

“I don’t,” Silver pushed himself out of Flint’s embrace, “I don’t,” bending over to pick up his fallen crutch. “I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew. If I understood. How could you make a decision like that without consulting me? Did you not think it would affect me?”

“ _Of course_ I thought it would affect you,” Flint finally had the decency to sound upset. He bristled like some kind of a hedgehog, and Silver could not help but reach out his hand to place it on the back of Flint’s neck, to steady them both. There, upon his nape, the soft bristles of Flint’s hair were beginning to grow back. _This_ was familiar; this Silver could probably do. “That was the reason why I had surrendered myself. To end the fighting. To secure the fastest, least bloody outcome, so that _you_ could be happy.”

And that… Silver had not planned for that.

“So that _Madi_ and you could be happy,” Flint went on, mercilessly shredding through whatever was left of the wall of rage Silver had so carefully built around himself in anticipation of this moment. “So you would not have to choose one irreplaceable thing over the other. I chose for you.”

“It wasn’t… your choice… to _make_ ,” Silver squeezed through his teeth.

“It shouldn’t have been a choice to begin with!” Flint fumed. “To choose between the woman you love and this war…”

“And _you_!” Silver exploded. “To choose between the woman I love and _you_ , you fucking bastard!”

Flint averted his eyes and bit his lower lip. “That wasn’t… I was never a factor.”

With his free hand, Silver clutched at the lapels of Flint’s coat. “James,” he breathed out like a fervent prayer. “Tell me you know that’s not true. Tell me you know you _matter_ to me.”

“You said she was the point at which you were most vulnerable…”

“That was before I saw you standing on the other side of those bars,” Silver whispered, his fist curling, pulling Flint closer until their breaths were mingled. “James… You are irreplaceable to me.” They both swayed gently, like sails in the breeze. Flint would not meet his eyes, and Silver’s own were fixed on that point right beneath the russet flames of Flint’s mustache. “If you don’t kiss me right now, I swear I’m going to bludgeon you to death.”

The points of the mustache curled on both ends, revealing a smile and a sudden flash of teeth. And then their mouths collided, stealing Silver’s breath yet giving him the breath of life again. He waxed and waned upon the precipice of Flint’s lips, enraptured and elated, and only craving more.

“So, you enjoyed it then?” Flint whispered, his tongue still teasing at the seam of Silver’s mouth, “Seeing me behind bars?”

“Deviant,” Silver growled against him, pressing the evidence of his arousal furiously into Flint’s thigh. “If you wish to be restrained, all you have to do is say so.”

“What would you do to me, Long John Silver,” Flint grinned, fingers digging into the tight mounds of Silver’s ass, “if you had me at your mercy?”

“Why don’t you turn around and I’ll show you,” Silver flashed his teeth at Flint, loving the wave of pure possessiveness that welled up inside his breast. He made his way over to the curtains and took one of the cords off the fastening hook.

“Here?” Flint’s immaculate eyebrow arched upwards. “Now?”

“Do you have some place else to be?”

A very becoming flush crept its way up Flint’s magnificent, thick neck and onto his face. Silver wished he could have a portrait of Flint painted, just like this: flustered and flushed, and radiating desire out of every insubordinate pore.

“Well?” Silver nodded towards Eleanor’s old desk. “Bow before your King.”

Flint’s tongue poked out, almost shyly, wetting his lower lip, even as it got pulled back behind Flint’s teeth. His eyelids lowered in silent acquiescence. If Silver had ever seen anything more beautiful, he was having trouble remembering at the moment. Flint placed his palms firmly upon the desk, supporting his bent over form.

“Like this?” he asked, without lifting his eyes to Silver, who had circled back to stand behind him.

Silver placed his crutch against the desk and let his hands roam over the broad expanse of Flint’s back, coming back together where it narrowed into his waist, loving the feel of the muscles flexing in response to his touch.

“Oh yes.” Silver pulled on Flint’s coat. “Take this off and resume this position.” Flint obeyed again without a word, shedding the coat and tossing it into a chair. “Wait.” Silver reached for the thin fabric of Flint’s dark shirt, pulling it out of his trousers with an assured twist of his fist. “Now, turn.” 

“Were you imagining this, while I was at the fort?” Flint’s voice was far too amused for someone who was about to get their comeuppance. 

“Oh, I was imagining a lot more that this,” Silver assured him, his hand swinging through the air and landing with a loud slap against Flint’s (sadly still attired) ass. “Unfortunately, _this_ is all I currently have time for.” He pressed his hand against Flint’s back, forcing him down, flat with his chest against the table. “Give me your hands.”

With a pause of uncertainty, Flint let go of the desk and reached his arms behind him, allowing his forehead to rest against the cool wood. What a vision he was like this: those powerful, wide shoulders flexed in surrender as Silver tied his wrists together with the curtain cord, those thick thighs spread just far enough so that Silver could slot himself in between them, that beautiful flush that Silver had spied earlier upon his face spreading to the back of Flint’s neck.

“My god, you are incredible,” Silver sighed, hitching Flint’s shirt higher up his back to expose the surprisingly pale and tender-looking skin above his hips. “And to think, such effrontery, to surrender yourself to another, when you had sworn to belong only to me.”

“When had I..?” 

The question was brought to an abrupt stop with another slap of Silver’s hand. “What was that?”

“I’m sorry, my lord?”

“That’s better.”

Silver’s hands reached for the flaps of Flint’s trousers, deftly undoing the buttons there, before pulling them down to expose the freckle-covered fields of Flint’s ass. 

“I don’t suppose you know where Eleanor Guthrie might have hid some oil in this office?” Silver asked, fingers kneading the tight muscles of Flint’s ass as his thumbs already pressed into the crevice, caressing the sensitive skin there with the touch of a connoisseur, making Flint’s skin erupt in a smattering of goosebumps.

“No such luck,” Flint grunted into the table, earning himself another slap, this time over his exposed flesh. It pinkened rapidly underneath Silver’s hand, sending a jolt of pleasure to his quickly hardening groin.

“No, no luck at all,” Silver punctuated his pronouncement with another smack, his hand rubbing soothing circles over the flushing flesh of Flint’s behind. “And yet, you owe me.” Silver leaned over Flint and let his mouth trail over the vertebrae of his back. “You owe me homage and obedience.” He kissed his way down, bracing against the desk on either side of Flint’s hips, until his mouth hovered just over the globes of Flint’s pinkened ass. “Both as your lover and your King.”

“Jesus… _fuck_ , John!”

“That’s no way to speak to your King,” and Silver sank his teeth into a juicy bit of muscle at the top of Flint’s ass, making the other man buck up and off the desk.

Silver’s own cock was beginning to throb fiercely inside the confines of his trousers, and he hastened to liberate it, rubbing the sensitive flesh against the cleft of Flint’s ass. 

“Perhaps I should punish you by making you take me just like this, hm?”

Only an unintelligible whimper had been Flint’s reply.

“Oh, yeah? Nothing to say in protest, Captain? You’d let me fuck you dry, just like this, to show me that you really belong to me, wouldn’t you?”

Silver bit into the skin over Flint’s shoulder blade, leaving teeth prints in his stead, right over a constellation of freckles that he had often been particularly fond of. Fucking Flint! No one but he could make Silver lose his shit like this, so entirely, and so maddeningly.

“Fuck… just fuck me…” Flint begged and Silver nearly finished right then and there.

“Lucky for you, I care about your physical well-being even if you yourself do not.” 

Silver adjusted his hold on Flint’s hips and let his cock drag through the cleft between his glorious buttcheeks, and settle underneath, snuggled up against Flint’s balls. “Press your thighs together,” Silver commanded.

“What? Oh…”

Flint caught on and did as he was told, encasing Silver’s cock in the heat of his thighs, and Silver moaned. It wasn’t quite what he had desperately wanted, and he would probably stab someone for this later. Preferably some redcoat. (But possibly Billy Bones.) Yet it still made his entire body vibrate and palpitate with lust.

Flint moaned and rocked back against Silver, his hands still helplessly bound behind his back.

“You want this, don’t you, darling?” Silver whispered into his lover’s ear. “You would’ve let me fuck you just like this…. You’re unbelievable, you know that? Oh fuck… fuck… you feel so good.” 

He was muttering nonsense and quite painfully aware of it. Only Silver had lost his last fuck somewhere on his way back here from the fort. And the thing was, Flint _did_ feel so good. Even like this, all trussed up and spread out before Silver, like some pagan sacrifice, the power he held over Silver, the god damn _thrall_ of him had been unmistakeable. 

Silver’s head spun, overcome with the very scent of Flint. His sweat, his arousal, his blood that pulsated just underneath that pale skin, all through those veins. So much vigor and life, and all of it had been in Silver’s hands, to keep safe, to protect.

“You’re mine!” Silver groaned and clasped his teeth into the thick skin of the back of Flint’s neck, coaxing another long moan out of the man beneath him. His hips stuttered, his fingers clenched into the flesh of Flint’s hips, hoping that the bruises he was leaving there would serve as reminders in the days to come. 

“John… please…” Flint’s own cock hung heavy and inflamed between his legs, being mercilessly pounded into the desk by the thrust of Silver’s hips.

“I will be… a merciful King…” Silver declared, wrapping his fist around Flint’s shaft, even as he spilled himself into the soft heat between Flint’s thighs, painting his cock and scrotum with his own seed. He stroked his hand over Flint’s throbbing flesh a few more times, until he felt the hot liquid spill over his own fingers.

Having finished them both off, Silver slid lazily to the floor and lay there, as he watched with an air of satisfaction as his seed dripped down Flint’s thighs. Flint, in the meantime, had managed to slip the knot that Silver had tied over his wrists, and turned about slowly with a look far too smug for a man who had just been roughly disciplined. 

“Feeling better?” Flint looked down at Silver’s spent form, while pulling his own trousers up without bothering to clean up the mess.

“Next time you pull some shit like this, I’m killing you,” Silver attempted to threaten with as much ferocity as he could muster. 

Flint knelt down and tucked Silver’s softening cock back into his trousers. “I love you too, you know.”

Silver reached out and took Flint’s hand in his, letting his thumb rub soothing circles into the skin between Flint’s thumb and index finger. “If you tell anyone I held your hand…”

“You’ll kill me?”

“Yeah.”


End file.
